Lisa had been concerned when Ianto coughed last night, but accepted his explanation at the time. Still, when she woke up, something inside at the pit of her stomach that told her it was more than spit. So as soon as she had gotten dressed and eaten a touch of breakfast, she headed straight for Ianto's flat. She hadn't gotten coffee yet because he always brewed better coffee anyway. She told him he should work in a coffee house, but he never believed her. He said that he was just as good as anyone else, even though she told him time and again her coffee never tasted as good as his. That was one of the things that had first attracted her to him; he preferred coffee over tea. He often stated he would drink tea, but his first love was coffee. She shared his sentiment.
On the way over, she had talked herself down and out of a frenzy, saying to herself that he was fine and would be chipper and shocked when she walked through his door, or he answered to see her there. But when he didn't respond to her knock, that familiar sense of worry jump back into her heart. She calmed herself by saying he was just in the shower and hadn't heard her. She unlocked the door, once again letting herself in.
Even though it was ten-thirty in the morning, one look around his flat told her he hadn't been up at all. The only sign that he had even come home at all was his jacket over the back of the couch. That at least calmed her mind when she feared for a moment he hadn't made it home. But there was no mess, no light, and no aroma of coffee to greet her.
"Ianto?" she called into the flat, closing the door behind her again.
No response.
She eased back to the bedroom side of the flat. It was possible he could be in his office. Some times he could get so caught up in his work, he blocks everything out. Sound, distracting sights, feelings, needs, everything. One of the few things that could pull him out of his accounting and office trance was the scent of fresh coffee, and the other was touch. She decided to try his office first, pushing the door open slowly.
There were no papers on the desk, pens were in their place, his computer sat idle on the desk, a rack of CDs mounted across the top of the desk, and the filing cabinet was closed and straight, but the chair was pushed up underneath the desk, the light was off, and there was no Ianto. She sighed and pulled back out of the office.
She hesitated before his bedroom door, almost dreading what might lie within. Her mind automatically jumped to the worst case scenario, but part of that might've been the Torchwood work she had done in recent months. They usually saw the bad things, and knowing that he worked for Torchwood as well made her fears plausible. She reluctantly opened the door and took in what she saw.
On rather nice, padded arm chair that Ianto had in his room at the side of his bed were his clothes from yesterday, thrown carelessly on to it. His pants were just barely hanging on the arm chair. She often wondered, and had frequently asked, why he kept the chair in his room. He had told her that sometimes it helped him sleep because occasionally, he needed to sit up to sleep. The closet was still open a small crack and the remote for the small TV he had at the foot of his bed looked to be untouched, which was unusual since he usually watched a few minutes at least before going to sleep. He frequently fell asleep with it on, actually. Something about watching TV made him sleepy, so he said. Lisa said it was just exhaustion.
Ianto himself was still in the bed, lying on his side and facing away from Lisa. He had the blanket pulled around him and there was no limb sticking out of the blanket this time. Even under the sheets, she could see he was curled up on himself. His short hair laid rather flat, some of it even sticking to his glistening forehead. He was pale, making him almost white. He was pale anyway, but he looked almost like a ghost now. She did always say he needed to get out more. The only real hint of color on him was the flush of red over his cheeks and nose.
Lisa gingerly lowered herself onto the side of the bed and reached out a hand to Ianto, massaging his shoulder a little.
"Ianto, love?" she called softly.
She saw his eyes shift under his eyelids and then his body began to move, slow and lethargic. It was almost like watching someone roll over in slow motion. His eyes opened halfway, but they were just barely so. He blinked sleepily, his droopy eyelids wanting to close.
"Lisa?" he whispered.
"Yeah, it's me Ianto," she smiled despite her worry. "I came to see you this morning, but you didn't answer, so I let myself in again."
He tried to smile, causing his eyes to slip closed. "Yeah, I figured."
"Are you feeling okay love? You look awful."
"I feel about that bad. Awful," then he thought about it. "No, actually, I feel worse than that."
Lisa tenderly stroked his forehead, pushing stray strands of short, dark hair out of the way. His hair was wet and left little trails across his forehead and even stuck to Lisa's fingers a little.
"You're very warm," Lisa stated. "I think you might be running a fever."
"Wonderful," Ianto hoarsely bit. "It's bad enough already."
"What do you mean?"
"I'm close to having a migraine. I can see the aura."
"Sick and a migraine..? I suppose a sickness could trigger one."
"Yes, usually sickness aggravates any conditions you already have. I just happen to be cursed with a weak head."
"Don't say that," Lisa cooed, stroking his forehead. "It's not your fault."
"That's why I said cursed."
"Your head is wonderful."
"When it's not having a migraine."
She leaned down and kissed his forehead soothingly. "But you were fine yesterday. Weren't you?"
"Yeah, I felt pretty good yesterday. A little tired, but that's not really that abnormal anymore."
"You got sick overnight?"
"Would appear that way. It's not that unusual, especially if it's the flu as I think it is."
He rolled onto his side and away from Lisa to cough violently into his fist, struggling to breathe in between, and when it finally subsided, he rolled back onto his back, looking completely drained. He took a few gasps of air to steady himself before trying to open his eyes and look at Lisa again.
"You should go," he rasped, his voice raw and sore. "I don't want you to catch it."
"You don't worry about that. I'll deal with it if I get sick," she placed a cool hand on the side of his face, causing him to close his eyes. "You need someone around here."
"I can get a neighbor to help me."
"You know that you can't do that. You don't even speak to any of them."
"How do you know that?"
"You told me once. A while ago."
"I'm sure I can find someone."
"When? You barely move around in bed as it is. Have you even gotten up today?"
"No, I haven't. I'm just so tired."
"So why waste your time and energy asking neighbors when I'm here and willing?"
"Because-"
"You don't want me to get sick. I know. But I'm not worried. And I do have neighbors I can talk to and have help me should I get sick. You don't, and you need someone," she petted his head softly. "And I do have the whole week off."
"Yeah, but I would think you'd want to do something else," he forced his blue eyes to look at her.
"I would want to spend it with you, but you're ill, meaning I would have to be here anyway. Besides, if I went home now, I would spend my week worrying about you, and I'd constantly be calling, or trying to call you anyway."
"I'd probably unplug my phone anyway."
"I know, since you have a migraine coming. That's what you usually do, and that would make me worry, not being able to get a hold of you."
"But you shouldn't get sick because of me."
"Hush Ianto. Go to sleep. I'll be back in later."
Ianto blinked sleepily, before sighing and closing his eyes again, rolling over onto his side. Lisa stroked the hair over his ear, feeling his fever through her finger tips. She sat with him until she was sure he was sleeping even through the coughing and slight sniffling. Lisa couldn't help but smile gently as she watched him sleep. She stood slowly so she wouldn't disturb him and left the room, leaving the door open. She gave another look back to her sick, Welshman before going into the living room to let him rest peacefully.